


Survivor

by VampireHydeFTW



Category: Dir en grey, Miyavi (Musician)
Genre: M/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3939877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/pseuds/VampireHydeFTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes in war horrible things happened, There was no avoiding it and no forgetting it either. How could a man get by, in such a cruel world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survivor

The ground was literally shaking beneath his feet as he darted for cover. His vision trained on the shelter not far away. To look anywhere else would bring nothing but despair. The air was heavy with smoke, he could taste it as he gasped for air. All around him was fallen comrades, brave men who had ended up on the losing side of this battle field.

Another grenade sounded in the distance, urging his burning muscles to run faster. Sanctuary was so close. If he just made it in time, then he would be safe. At least for a little while longer. Another grenade, another scream in the far distance and then he was flying.

It took him a moment to realise he was no longer on the ground, and another to feel the burning agony in his legs. He'd stepped on a landmine, he realised, just as he passed out.

Hell was replaced with nothing. Endless dark where there was no passing of time, no pain, no fear. Just endless dark until finally his eyes blinked open and he was surrounded by white. Nothing made sense to him, until finally the shapes took form and he realised he was staring up at a young man with long blond hair.

“Are you an angel?” he asked, making the beautiful man laugh.

“That's just the pain killers talking.” the man replied. “Come on Miyavi, you know who I am.”

“Michael?” Miyavi muttered, unable to get the image of the archangel out of his mind. Only, this wasn't an angel. He knew this man, just like the man claimed. Why was so hard to think straight? “No, Shinya.”

“Just get some sleep.” Shinya advised. It sounded like such a good idea that Miyavi couldn't help but close his eyes.

 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, time passing in unmeasurable amounts until finally he woke up feeling a lot less confused. He was in a military hospital, being treated for wounds from the battle field. Had he survived standing on a landmine? How? Perhaps something else had set it off and he had just been close enough to be affected by the explosion?

Worried because he couldn't feel his legs or any pain, he lifted the covers wishing that he hadn't. The hospital gown was disgusting, but his legs were there, seemingly in one piece. He could move his toes so he assumed there was no major damage.

He was investigating the drip in his arm when the doctor arrived to check on him. He had so many questions, but Shinya beat him to it with a lecture on why he shouldn't mess with the equipment. He got it really, the drip contained his pain killers and the saline solutions that had been keeping him alive the last ten days.

“Don't you have other patience to worry over?” Miyavi complained. “Isn't it normal for the nurses to be doing all this?”

“I had a few spare minutes.” Shinya replied. He seemed hurt that Miyavi had mistaken his kindness for worrying. Perhaps he had been in this room to much? Every spare minute he had, he seemed to end up here. Watching over the injured solider, always wondering if Miyavi really did think he was an angel. It was probably just the medication talking.

“You saved my life, didn't you?” Miyavi asked, surprising Shinya by taking his hand. “Thank you.”

 

The muscle damage in Miyavi's leg took weeks to heal, and then even longer with a physiotherapist as he learned to walk on it again. Through it all Shinya visited him, his visits the one thing Miyavi had left to look forward too. He'd lost a lot of friends in the war, a war he was no longer part of. He'd be going home soon, no longer in a fit state to fight. He longed for that day, but he dreaded it too. Shinya had become his world, it would hurt them both when he left.

Determined to not waste his time with the doctor he began to limp towards his room. His leg still hurt, but it was a dull pain that was easy to ignore. He probably should be using the walking stick, but he hated the way it made him feel like an old man.

He knocked politely before he entered the room, catching the older man just out of the shower. There was nothing but a towel protecting his modesty but neither of them minded at all.

“Hey,” Shinya greeted him as he sat on the edge of his bed and reached for his hairbrush. His long hair was still dripping water, droplets landing on his lower back and rolling down his skin before vanishing under the towel. He was beautiful, even like this, Miyavi concluded. Perhaps even more so. He longed to reach out and kiss him, touch him, feel his soft skin. Whilst he knew Shinya might enjoy all those things, he was also scared. The doctor was so much smarter than him, older too and he wondered what Shinya even saw in him. He was friendly and kind, looking after him from the day he had first ended up in the hospital, but Miyavi suspected that it was nothing but a brotherly love. “You're early.”

“I know, I got bored.” Miyavi replied as he took a seat across the room and idly watched Shinya work the knots out of his hair. There was so much he wanted to say, so much that he couldn't. His soul cried out for the comfort that only Shinya could give him. The war had damaged more than his body, why couldn't the doctor see just how much more he needed of his care?

“You're always bored, what am I meant to do with you?” Shinya complained. “Don't you have any hobbies?”

“Not any I can do now.” Miyavi replied. He didn't want to talk about his lost dream, it would hurt far too much.

“I'm sorry,” Shinya apologised. He blamed himself for not healing him back to his old self. It was crazy, but that was just the kind of man that Shinya was. He reminded Miyavi more of an angel now, than he had done the first time he had woken up.

“It's not your fault,” Miyavi scolded him, getting up and making his way to the bed. He sat down beside the older man, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding him close. As much for his own comfort as Shinya's own. This war had given nothing but hurt and pain to everyone involved, yet in this cruel world he had found a gentle kindness. This was what he clung onto now. Shinya was the only light he had left.

Warm fingers brushed over his face, pulling hair back over his ear. He stared at Shinya as he stared back, lost in a moment that felt like an impossible dream. Then, Shinya was kissing him and pushing him back down on the bed. He allowed the other to dominate him, holding him close as warmth filled him as if for the first time. When Shinya tried to pull back, he clung onto him, terrified that this warmth might now go.

“You want this?” Shinya asked. So sweet and shy that it seemed surreal that this man was older than him.

“Don't ask silly questions,” Miyavi said, pulling Shinya down on top of him. Their lips joining as hands explored unfamiliar territory. The towel that had been covering Shinya was pushed away, no longer wanted or needed.

“Miyavi, we can't,” Shinya protested. Yet he didn't stop, moving his lips down onto the younger man's neck. Kissing the skin gently, his mouth as skilful as his hands.

“Shinya,” Miyavi moaned, shifting a little to get comfier as submitted to all of Shinya's desires. This was like a dream, without the risk of waking up. He could hardly believe Shinya even wanted him.

“You're so beautiful,” Shinya complained. “So full of life despite everything.”

“I'm not,” Miyavi protested. “Really, I don't feel like that at all.”

“Yet you are.” Shinya answered as he pulled Miyavi's t-shirt up over his head. They watched each other for a moment, realising that they preferred the version of themselves reflected in each others eyes. There was no horrors of war there, just love.

Slowly, Shinya moved his mouth down Miyavi's body, removing any clothes that were in the way until he had worshipped every inch of him. With lips wrapped around Miyavi's perfect arousal he began to bob his head. He took in as much as he could, lightly sucking and teasing him with his tongue. He wanted this to be special, something Miyavi would always remember. At least he knew he was doing well. Miyavi had become a moaning mess before him. The very image of masculine perfection.

He swallowed everything that Miyavi offered him, moving away with a shy smile on his lips. He was no virgin, but he always felt that way whenever he was with somebody new. He wasn't the type to move easily from one man to the next, but there was a unique thrill of experiencing the unknown.

Miyavi had the drawer open of his bedside table open before he even realised what he was doing. Frozen Shinya watched Miyavi look over his collection of anal toys. His cheeks turning red, even though it was no secret now that he was into this kind of thing. To his relief Miyavi said nothing, simply grabbing the condoms and lube that he kept in there. Perhaps he shouldn't have kept his collection in such an obvious place. Only, he ended up using these toys more nights than those he didn't.

He took the lube, still blushing, and began to prepare Miyavi, jealous of how free the younger man was. What was it like, to be so free of inhibitions, he wondered. It must be nice, a lot easier to live like that.

He took his time preparing Miyavi, kissing his skin as he went along. Both men so wrapped up with each other that the room could burn down around them and they wouldn't notice. He had wanted this for so long.

Gently he pushed his arousal into his partner, stilling to let Miyavi adjust before he took up a steady pace. His body knew what it wanted, his compassion making sure that Miyavi experienced the pleasure too.

Hands slid over his body, moving over his ass and then suddenly a finger was buried deep inside. He moaned, his hips arching desperate for more. He couldn't deny this was what he wanted, Miyavi had it all figured out anyway.

“More,” Shinya moaned. Delighted to feel the lube landing over his ass. Miyavi really wasn't going to hold back and he didn't want him too. He stilled long enough to allow a second finger inside him before he began to rock between them. Every forward thrust moving him deeper into Miyavi, every pull back sending those fingers against his prostrate. He was lost, Shinya realised as his moans filled the room. His pleasure had wiped away his inhibitions clean away. This was a first for him, with a new partner at least.

“There's no shame in sex you know,” Miyavi teased. Perhaps not, but they were gay and there would always be men who believed that what they did was wrong.

He moved faster, wiping the thought from his mind. There was pleasure, and there was warmth. Most of all there was Miyavi, the man he realised he had fallen in love with from the very first day they had met.

The pleasure overwhelmed him and he fell away, gasping for air. That had been so good, his partner so loving and playful. He felt like the luckiest man alive, and from the smile he wore he knew Miyavi felt the same way. They lay together, wrapped in each others arms not saying a word. There was no need to talk, their bodies had just said it all. In these days of war, love was the most important thing left. The one emotion that could survive all the horrors. The one emotion that would get them through.


End file.
